


Angels Watch O'er Me

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-23
Updated: 2005-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6457066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley's got the flu and Angel's come a-callin' to see how he can help.  Early AtS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Watch O'er Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

All day Wesley’s head had been pounding in the most unpleasant manner. Now it was getting worse. He could actually hear the pounding, insistent and echoing, in his room. It took him a few minutes to realize that the sound wasn’t coming from his skull, but was coming from his front door. Whoever it was, they had better have a bloody good excuse for being there because right now he was far too busy dying a horrible death to be bothered for any reason that wasn’t of the utmost importance.

Wesley’s head swam as he stumbled out of bed. He made his way into the living room, steadying himself against walls and furniture along the way. He reached the front door, slowly opened it a crack, and peeked out, squinting so he could see without his glasses.

“Hey, Wes. Man, you do not look good.”

“Angel? What are you doing here?” Wesley croaked. Actually there appeared to be two Angels outside Wesley’s door. After a second his eyes focused and the two Angels merged into one. Ah, that was better.

“Uh, I wanted to see how you were doing.” Angel asked.

Wesley opened the door wider. He leaned against it in an effort to keep his head from rolling off his shoulders and into the hallway. He coughed to clear his throat and winced at the soreness. “That’s very kind of you.”

They both stood there in silence, Angel glancing about a little awkwardly while Wesley and the door swayed slightly.

Angel held up a paper bag. “I brought you some chicken soup. Cordy thought it might make you feel better.”

Wesley turned an even lighter shade of pale. “Cordy made chicken soup?”

Angel chuckled. “No. I got it from that deli down the street from the office. It smells pretty good and it’s still hot.”

Wesley didn’t have much of an appetite and he couldn’t remember when he last ate something. He’d been drinking water and juice but really didn’t have the energy to fix anything to eat. It had taken every effort to reach for the drink on his bedside table.

“Thank you. Please come in.” As he stepped backward to let Angel pass he suddenly felt the floor shift under his feet.

“Whoa, whoa, Wes! Maybe you shouldn’t be out of bed.” Angel had swiftly moved to his side and was holding him up with one strong arm. 

“Had to get up to answer the door, didn’t I?” Wesley explained. Now he was lifted up in the air. What was happening? Oh, Angel was carrying him. Wesley’s first thought was that he should protest being carted about like an invalid. Then he decided he was too exhausted to care. Besides, Angel was cool and solid and somehow comforting. Wesley relaxed into Angel’s arms. Then the arms were gone. No, wait, Angel was still there, standing over him and looking very concerned.

Angel had gently deposited Wesley on the bed. “Feel any better?”

When Wesley tried to answer, he nearly coughed up a lung instead. Angel sat on the side of the bed and held him upright until the fit subsided.

“Jeez, Wes, you’re burning up.” Angel placed a cool hand on Wesley’s hot cheek. The coolness felt so good that Wesley leaned into the touch without thinking. “Did you take anything for the fever?”

Wesley tried to remember when he had taken that Tylenol. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t think it had been that recently. “Been awhile.” He whispered, not wanting to risk another coughing fit, and motioned to the bottle of pills on the side table.

Angel shook a couple of pills from the bottle and held them up to Wesley’s mouth. Wes let Angel place them on his tongue and he swallowed them down with a few sips from the bottle of water Angel held to his lips. He then let his head fall back onto Angel’s steady shoulder. 

“Have you eaten today?”

Wesley shook his head in reply.

“You ought to have something. I’ll get the soup.” Angel settled Wesley’s head onto the pillow. He stood up and pointed a warning finger at Wesley. “You stay put.”

Wes smiled weakly and nodded. He closed his eyes and listened to Angel rooting around in the kitchen. He opened his eyes again when he heard him walk back into the bedroom. Angel held a steaming cup and spoon in one hand and a cloth napkin in the other. He placed the soup on the side table while he helped Wesley sit up and put a couple of pillows behind his back. Angel tucked the edge of the napkin into the collar of Wesley’s t-shirt and reached for the soup cup. Filling the spoon, he moved it toward Wesley’s lips.

Wesley looked puzzled. “You’re going to feed me?” 

“You don’t want me to?” Angel looked disappointed.

Wesley thought about it. He wasn’t a child. Still, even Nanny and Mum hadn’t pampered him this much when he’d been his most ill, shivering and sweating with some miserable childhood infection and only his worn Pooh Bear to keep him company during the long night. Father had frowned upon them doting on him.

Angel noticed the look of sadness that passed over Wesley’s face. “Wes? You okay?”

Wes shook himself out of his memories. “Yes.” He studied Angel’s face and saw the genuine worry that creased his heavy brow. Oh, sod it. He was tired and aching all over, but he’d felt better in the little time that Angel had been there than he had since he’d come down with this ghastly virus. He nodded at the spoon still in Angel’s hand. “Go ahead.” He looked into Angel’s eyes and smiled. “Please.”

Angel returned the smile and carefully fed him the spoonful of soup. After half the cup was gone, Wesley asked him to stop. “I think I’d like to get some sleep now.”

“Sure.” Angel helped him get settled under the covers and tucked the quilt under his chin. Angel wasn’t quite sure what to do after that. “Um, well, I guess I should… um, if you need anything you can… you know where to—“

“Angel?” Wesley asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“Could you maybe, stay here for just a bit? If you don’t have any other plans or--”

“Yeah! Sure!” Angel realized he might have sounded a little too eager. “I mean, I was just planning on maybe doing some reading tonight, nothing special. I can stick around. If you like.”

Wesley smiled sleepily. “Very much. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Angel watched Wesley close his eyes and slowly drift off to sleep. He looked around the room and spotted a small bookcase. Perusing the odd assortment of classic literature and pulp fiction he found one well-worn volume that made him grin. He picked up the book and settled into a cozy chair in the corner. “Let’s see what old Pooh Bear’s gotten himself into.” He whispered to himself as he began to read.


End file.
